


Be My Alpha?

by AsagiStilinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 12 Days of Sterek, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Skating, Alternate Universe - Yuri!!! on Ice Fusion, Alternate Universe- Werewolves are still a thing, Coach Stiles Stilinski, Coaches, Crossover, Figure Skater Derek Hale, Figure Skater Stiles Stilinski, ISU Grand Prix of Figure Skating, Ice Skating, M/M, Rival Relationship, Rivalry, Werewolf Bites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21764845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsagiStilinski/pseuds/AsagiStilinski
Summary: Stiles should be happy that he just placed silver at his second Grand Prix Final, only coming in under Scott who definitely deserved the gold, but no, instead he's spending the banquet totally pissed because his skating idol, Derek Hale, only placed third- don't get him wrong, he WANTS to beat Derek... but only when Derek is giving it his all, not skating so...hopelessly....Luckily, Derek is as aware of this problem as Stiles is, and he intends to remedy it... with a very weird solution to his problem...
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 4
Kudos: 126
Collections: 12 Days of Sterek





	Be My Alpha?

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 of 12 Days Of Sterek- an AU that wouldn't leave me alone
> 
> I DO have some other small things planned for this AU but don't feel confident that I'll continue it, as it's one of those "it could go on forever if I let it" type things

Stiles was bitter

If one were to look at the circumstances of the situation he was in, they'd probably make a case for every reason why he _shouldn't_ be bitter, and yet here he was, worse than a pile of kale

"Dude, cheer up! You got SILVER, how great is that?"

Scott McCall, 19, first-time gold medalist at the Grand Prix Finals for Men's Figure Skating, representing Mexico, stood next to him with a glass half-full of champagne and a comforting hand on his shoulder

Stiles Stilinski, 19, first-time silver medalist at the Grand Prix Finals for Men's Figure Skating, representing the United States, was still pretty fucking bitter

Not because of the gold, no, Scott deserved that medal, that medal had almost cost him his entire career, Scott McCall had done what everyone on the planet told him _not_ to do and risked his neck doing a quad axle and fucking _landed it_ like some sort of freak of nature after only having practiced for a triple earlier that afternoon in warm ups

That damn move could have ended Scott's entire career and so yes, he very much deserved gold

So it wasn't the gold-medalist Stiles was bitter about, it was the _bronze_ medalist

Derek Hale, 25, five-time gold medalist at the Grand Prix Finals for Men's Figure Skating, representing the United States as well, had only come in third for the first time in the last six years

Stiles didn't like it

It wasn't that he wasn't proud of Scott and himself, it was just that Derek's performance had been underwelming compared to what he was used to

He'd be happy to kick Derek's ass all the way across the rink if he felt that the older skater was actually putting up his usual level of fight, but what he had witnessed at the competition had just been.... _rough_....

It wasn't that Derek wasn't still beautifull or didn't still do well- he _was_ , after all, _still_ on the podium, ranking the third best male figure skater in the world as of that year, that was no small accomplishment, but....

Derek had always been special when it came to skating

His technical scores were always high, no one questioned that he was a magnificent skater, but it was the emotion he put into his routines that always had people fawning over him and it was exactly that emotion that his skating lacked this year, and no amount of technical points in the world could make up for the style points that Stiles and Scott had raked in to make up for their considerably _less_ perfect technical scores

Scott busted his ass to excel at both- though often still struggled with technique- and Stiles poured every inch of himself into making himself a walking- or, well, skating- painting of emotion to make up for the fact that he was only good enough to maybe make qualifiers if technical scores were all they went by

Stiles had flubbed his last jump and met the ice but had still managed to grab silver because of the passion of his routine

The passion that Derek had inspired, that Derek currently lacked

So Stiles was fucking BITTER because he FINALLY got to the GPF and _didn't_ utterly fail (like last time) and it wasn't even a worthy competition!

So yeah, Stiles was going to possibly eat his skates after this

"Didn't his sister just die?" Scott reasoned as he sipped his champagne

"Almost a full year ago, I'm not going to be such a prick that I think he should be 'over it by now' or anything like that but the last time he went through a loss like this- a much bigger one, mind you- he-..."

Well, he'd had to sit out competition that year actually...

His entire family had died in a house fire- arson, the ruling had been- one summer when he was seventeen, right before competitions started, for obvious reasons he hadn't competed at all that year

But he'd been back at it the _following_ year and won his first gold, now he was down to bronze and Stiles......

Maybe Stiles should be more sensitive....

"Look, if it's bothering you that much then why don't you just go talk to him? Maybe you'll feel better, you were too messed up to do it last year so now's your chance,"

Stiles only grumbled in response, his nose wrinkling with distaste

Last year had been the second worst year of his entire life, only headed up by the year his mom died, back when he was eight

He'd finally made it to the GPF only to have such a soul-crushing episode of anxiety that he could barely even get through his routine, missed almost every jump and even his sit-spin had been a fucking disaster....

Last year hadn't been good, he had refused to go to the banquet, despite his coach trying to force him to

Needless to say that going up to his ~~idol~~ rival after that hadn't exactly been feesable

"Hey... isn't that Derek's coach?"

Glancing up from his champagne- wich, despite being underage, he was drinking anyway, because hey, Canada! Lucky him that the GPF was held there this year- he spotted the dark-haired woman walk away from Derek, who was leaning up against the wall sulking

Huh....

Curiosity finally killing his cat of self-restraint, Stiles set his glass down, ignoring Scott's protests as he made his way to the larger man, inhaled, and started to open his mouth-

"You're Stiles Stilinski right?"

Derek Hale knew his name

....

Time to die

"Y-Yeah?"

"You're the silver-medalist this year,"

"Yeah..?"

"Last year you fucked up your first Grand Prix due to anxiety and failed so badly there were rumors that you were going to retire,"

"Y-Yeah......."

"After that you spent half the year training in Japan with the Katsukis giving you some coaching tips, didn't you?"

"Yeah.....???"

"And this was after you spent the two summers prior at a skating camp they were hosting?"

" _Yeah_?"

"And last season you spent four months in Russia training under Yuri Plisetsky?"

".................................... _Da_ , so, like, is any of this going anywhere, or are you just reading my wiki page back to me?"

"Ofcourse it's going somewhere," Derek huffed, his arms crossed over his chest

He looked annoyed but Stiles didn't think that was really it, if he had to pin anything, he'd actually say it was _anxiety_ that made Derek look so defensive, call him a bad gambler but if he had to bet...

"You've studied under three of the top figure skaters of all time, that's more than anyone else here can say, and you're clearly talented,"

"Thank.... you....?"

Stiles wasn't sure where this was going but he was beginning to fear that it wasn't actually reality

Maybe it was all a dream....

If it _was_ a dream then he was pretty damn disappointed in his dream self for only getting silver, did he REALLY not even get gold in his _dreams_?!?

Man that was just terrible...

"And you have the highest PCS scores of the competition, wich is typical for you,"

"I know.... thanks again...?"

"My own PCS was lower now than it's been in years,"

Stiles struggled not to say "I know" and save himself from the stilted awkwardness of this conversation but at the moment he was pretty invested and really just wanted to see where the hell Derek was going with this

"I... need to get my PCS up if I'm going to have any chance of getting on the podium at Worlds, I only got on it this time because of my technical score, but...."

"Derek.... are you trying to ask me for something...?" Stiles asked slowly

Derek looked like this conversation was _killing him_ , but he kept pushing forward, taking a few deep breaths before finally just blurting it out

"Be my coach Stiles!"

.............

_Ok then_

Stiles may be _suffocating_ from the lack of air his brain was clearly getting due to this heavy hallucinatory fantasy

And he was more sure than ever that he was dreaming

"...Um-"

"I need a new coach, someone who can kick my PCS up into high gear and have faith that I can handle it, I need someone who's trained under the best, someone who's notable for their composition and interpretation, I need you to show me, before Worlds, how to get my scores up so I can get on the podium again, so that I have half a chance in hell at getting on the Olympic team,"

..Right....

That made sense

Derek- like many athletes- dreamed of being an Olympian, he had spoken about it often in interveiws and the like, but it kept passing him by

They were nearing the next winter Olympics now and the last time he had just missed out on qualifying, something he blamed on still being greif-stricken over the loss of his family, having taken a year off to mourn had caused a dip in his career that he didn't fully recover from until _after_ the last winter Olympics

With this one coming up, it might very well be Derek's last chance to compete, given his age

Many skaters had to retire their competitive careers before the age of thirty, and with Derek being twenty-five now, he was already pushing that envelope...

This could be his last chance to make the Olympics and if he didn't boost his scores soon....

"You're serious about this?" Stiles asked with a bit of hesitation

"As a heart attack," Derek answered firmly

With a deep breath, Stiles finally nodded his affirmation

He was far from confident, but if Derek Hale needed him for something....

Well, he definitely wasn't stupid enough to look that gift horse in the mouth

"Alright then, Derek Hale, I'm going to be your new coach, you're going to make the podium at Worlds, and hell... you might even win,"

Derek's lips curved into a determined grin and he took Stiles' hand, giving it a firm shake

"I'm counting on it,"

~+~

So, New York was... definitely something else

In the two weeks that Stiles had been there- having left his rink in Detroit where he and Scott trained- he had sort of been hit upside the head with the overwelmingness of it all

Derek, as someone who had spent the better part of his life in New York, despite being a California native like Stiles, had been good about helping him adjust, but it was still a considerable pain in his ass

Now he was just trying to get back to the rink for a late night training session with Derek after having had to run to the post office to pick up one of his boxes from home

He wasn't moving to New York permanently ~~yet~~ but he was definitely going to be there longer than the few weeks he had initially assumed he would be there

Derek needed him, just... maybe not quite in the way either of them had initially thought

After Stiles had looked over his program and made some much needed adjustments, he had still found that Derek's execution was off

The way he moved lacked passion, lacked soul, it wasn't the Derek Hale the world was used to

Stiles knew it was likely due to the death of his sister- an event that was just one week short from a full year old now- but just because he understood it, that didn't mean he could accept it

If Derek was going to aim high, then he would have to get that familiar passion back, enough to rival Scott and even Stiles himself

And Stiles....

He wanted to skate against Derek

He wanted to skate against him when they were both at their full power, and see who was really the best

He wanted to skate on the same ice, to break down in the same place that Derek would

He wouldn't be satisfied until he stood on the podium above Derek knowing that they both had left their hearts on the ice and Stiles had _still_ come out from it with a point more, a medal higher

He wanted to kick Derek Hale's ass- but only when that ass was in perfect skating condition

And right now...

_Ping!_

Taking his phone out of his pocket, Stiles smirked at the text message on his screen

_Warm ups are done, you'll have to explain to me why I'm at the rink at 10 PM and you're not here_

He was still a good few minutes away from the rink, he should probably text back instead of just waiting to get there and talk to Derek in person

_Be there in five, I'll tell you then_

Just as he was pocketing his phone, he heard a rather unsettling sound, like twigs snapping

New York was a loud place in general, it was unusual to have some relative quiet in the night, so Stiles was far more aware of it when he had it

And he had had the quiet all night, for it to be suddenly interrupted by the sound of snapping twigs couldn't be a good sign

Shuddering a little, he turned and looked over his shoulder

There was no one behind him...

He was currently walking along the sidewalk outside of a park, maybe there was a squirrel or something in there that had snapped the twigs...

Although it sounded like whatever it was had been alot more powerfull than just a squirrel

He shook his head, trying to put those thoughts out of his mind and head back to the rink

But he had to pause a second time, hearing yet another sound from behind him, this one more closely resembling claws on concrete though, rather than snapping twigs

And this time when he turned around, there was _definitely_ something behind him...

~+~

"Stiles!? Where the hell have you been!? I was starting to get worried here!"

Skating to the edge of the rink, Derek paused, his face draining of color as his new coach walked in, disheveled and.... bloody......

And that was when the scent hit him...

_Shit_

He rushed off of the ice, snapping his skate guards on as quickly as he could and hurrying to Stiles' side, not even bothering to ask what had happened as he yanked his coach's jacket sleeves up and felt his heart sink into his stomach

Bitemarks

As clear as day, Stiles had a small circle of bitemarks over his forearm

....

_Shit_

Derek felt _ill_

He felt a terribly cold rush sink over him as he stared down into Stiles' tired eyes, and all of a sudden, anything and everything to do with skating was in the back of his mind

"Stiles...?"

"This is the worst timing imaginable for what, apparently, is _werewolf shenanigans_ Derek," he noted, eyes narrowed

Personally, Derek was just stunned that he had said the word "werewolf" with such seriousness and conviction, most humans didn't realize right away that-

"By the way," Stiles added, snapping Derek's attention away from the bitemarks

"Your sister, apparently, says _hi_ ,"


End file.
